


Echoes

by Schattenfeuer



Category: Nightmare Harem
Genre: F/M, Gen, Music, Other, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, genderneutral reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:22:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25746583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schattenfeuer/pseuds/Schattenfeuer
Summary: When you find something that connects every soul, even across the gap between two worlds.
Relationships: Mikael/reader
Kudos: 1





	Echoes

Your fingers had been itching, twitching for the coolness of smooth ivory, to coax tunes out of a beast made out of polished wood and tuned strings. Of course, your preferred instrument was now unobtainable and part of you dreaded to ask. Not because your lover would deny your request, but because it felt silly in a way that was hard to describe. 

So imagine your surprise when this little rumor reached your ears. It made you see another site to the already many facets of your beloved. You could not believe it at first, yet you could see the truth with your own two eyes when you two were alone, when you reached for his hands, turned them and traced the lines of his palms. While confused at your sudden action, he held still, allowed you to do as you pleased, too deep was his trust to deny you this strange yet simple request. 

“Can you play for me?”, he blinked, surprised and caught off guard, thrown back into a past that was filled with the faint notes of fading music and bitter ambition. How would it be, to once again pick up an instrument, now that there was peace in his heart, had calmed the raging sea that had been his mind. His smile was stunning in its brilliance and before you knew it, he took your hand, pulled you along. 

Past a wealth of doors until finally you arrived in a room you had never entered, flooded by sunlight, it only held one thing in it and even with the white sheet covering it, you knew this distinctive form, would recognize it from anywhere. The piano was gorgeous, as everything in Mikael’s castle, white and silver and polished to absolute perfection, despite the apparent years of disuse, it held a gleam of light in it, seemed to call out to you and before you knew it, you had placed your hands on the keys. 

The melody that you started to weave was unfamiliar to him, but he still listened closely, how could he not if it was you who created this melody from nothing but your mind and memories. Only when the last tune had faded away and the silence in the room became heavy with something you were shy to name, did you look up again, forcing a little smile onto your lips.

“I’m sorry, I asked to hear something from you and then went ahead and tormented your poor ears.”, your self depriving joke caused him to frown as he finally took his place beside you on the narrow piano bench. In a way this metaphor was now his, no, your shared life. Side by side, whether in pain or bliss. Or in this case, nostalgia tinged with sadness. Old muscle memory proved to be his ally and soon the room was filled with music a second time. And you finally believed it entirely and in its wholesomeness. Mikael truly was in a league of his own, his play was miles above your pitiful attempts to recreate a song from your past. Emotions woven into music tugged at your heartstrings, your throat felt tight and your eyes started to prick and become hot. 

A wry smile came to rest on the arc of your lips as you reminded yourself that he actually was an angel, true to the belief indoctrinated into you by faithful church goes of old, an angel’s music was a piece of heaven and you were blessed to ever have received the honor of hearing it, especially when the notes turned sweet, started to caress your ears like your lover was attempting to woo you with his phantom touch. And yet, even through the layers of sweetness, he never lost himself, remained his own person, a better person, thanks to you simply being at his side. 

“Thank you”, he flinched when your whisper cut through the last, lingering echoes of the song, turned to look at you, red eyes wide open and honest. He knew almost everything about you, had unpeeled you layer by layer, yet you knew almost nothing about him, not about his talent as a musician, not about how hollow he had felt up until he had screamed it in your face. His eyes narrowed in simple bliss when your hand rested carefully on his cheek, your hand warm and soft against his skin, while you moved closer, closing the last bit of distance between you. 

The taste of him on the tip of your tongue reminded you of a mild breeze in summer, of open fields of blooming green, of sunshine and blue skies, while his soft groan became an entirely different kind of music in your ears, when you pulled back you were more than happy to taking in the spreading blush under his pale skin, pale like porcelain, when you’ve met, he reminded you of a doll, now, with his chest heaving and eyes glimmering in the bright light of this room he looked more like a person than ever before. 

Happiness suited him so much better than sadness, than loneliness. The thought that it had been alone your doing that brought forth this potent mix of raw love and vulnerability in his eyes was making your head spin in ways that were beyond your ability to describe. All you could do was once again to bridge the distance between you two and steal away the last of his breath, greedy for everything that was him.

And he welcomed you with open arms, gave openly and with both hands everything you were willing to take and so much more.


End file.
